Like When a Fox Falls
by akurosa
Summary: Last time, he saved them. This time, they'll find him. A modern-reincarnation fic, rated for language.
1. Chapter 1

**a/n: This is a modern-reincarnation-angst fic I wanted to write for ages. The basic idea is that the crew members are reborn and one-by-one, find their way back to Luffy despite not remembering their past. Nami, for reasons that will (hopefully) be clear later on, will be the only one to remember. The age, appearance, etc is intentionally vague here so let your imaginations run wild. The other crew members will be appearing in the next chapter that is still being written.**

**The title is from an old Chinese saying, ****首丘初心(read, in Korean: 수구초심, su gu cho shim) which literally translates to: head, fox, first, soul/mind/spirit. It was said that when a fox falls (dies), it turns its head to the direction of where it was born. It signifies one's yearning for home. ****  
**

_They lose each other. The 'where's and 'how's and 'why's don't matter because the fact remains: they lose each other._

The first word Banchina and Yassop think Usopp gurgled is 'baba.' It was a sunny Saturday morning and the two were joining forces to tidy up their apartment. Leaving their six month toddler occupied on a cotton blanket between themselves, they were folding their laundry when Usopp, swinging a rubber toy in one chubby fist and repeatedly patting his blanket with another, said, "Baba!"

Banchina and Yassop looked up.

Usopp insisted, "Baba!"

And for years to come, his parents would argue over whether Usopp's first word was an attempt of 'papa' or an imitation of Yasopp's nickname for his wife 'Ban-ban.'

It's neither.

The first word toddler Usopp really gurgled is 'phee.' He repeated it again and again but his parents dismissed it as Usopp blowing raspberries. In a sense, Banchina and Yassop were right in thinking it wasn't a word.

It is half of a name.

ㅡ

At four years old, Nami can tell her mom if it will rain more accurately than the newscast. She can tell Nojiko to try again when her sister makes a mistake on her math homework. Nami can add and subtract and divide and multiply and has moved on to calculating fractions. The toys that Nojiko used to play with at Nami's age bore her. She is constantly looking for something else and secretly finishes Nojiko's homework whenever her sister isn't looking.

One day, Bellmére holds her hand and takes her to a place called school. Nami spends the next hour hiding behind her mother's leg and answering questions. The people tell her mother words like _intelligent _and _gifted_ and by the following week, Bellmére tells Nami she will be going to school every day.

It is not the same school as Nojiko and at first Nami refuses because Nojiko always promised they would go to school together. It isn't until her sister gives Nami her orange ruler with blue pony stickers ("See? We'll be together this way.") that Nami finally climbs into the car. She is still pouting when Bellmére kisses her goodbye but the teachers at school are nice and for once, Nami isn't bored. They teach her fractions and decimals and graphs. They explain things like wind velocity and pressure and every day is like a breath of fresh air because Nami finally has the right words to explain what she always knew. She tells them about how the wind changes and pressure drops before it rains. She spends days exploring the entire school; going through classrooms and tennis courts and even the teachers' lounges. She draws the map of the school, using her orange ruler, and shyly presents it to Ms. Lola who nearly cries with joy.

Nami is brilliant for her age and her teachers marvel at her capacity to understand things with a single explanation. She is cheerful and clever and cute. This does not change as Nami grows older and people tell her things like _you're so perfect_ and_ so lucky_ and _what in the world would a girl like yourself possibly want more_?

Nami wants to understand:

She always has the same dream. In it, a blue sky is stretched endlessly above her and she leans against the banister of a ship that smells like bitter smoke and tangerines. The weather is dry and a bit stifling, but this is to be expected because they are sailing towards a desert. Nami closes her eyes and listens to the comforting buzz from around her; the people on this ship are _fun_ like Bellmére_, safety_ like Nojiko and Nami wishes she doesn't ever have to open her eyes.

"Having a dumb little brother makes an older brother worry," Nami listens to the affection in the words. "Take care of him for me."

It's always the same request, always making her throat lock up and her heart flutter too quickly like when Nami as a child lost Bellmére in a crowd. She looks at the man who says them; he has his back to the sun for the light to cast shadows over his face but he reminds her of fire. The man raises a hand in goodbye but Nami must stop him from leaving because this will be the last time she ever sees this man. She twists around _searching_ and trips over her own feet to reach out for the arm of a red and blue blur-

Nami wakes up. She always wakes up.

ㅡ

Independent music doesn't pay very well but his fans are loyal and Brook is happiest playing for people who love his songs.

Pedestrians drop coins or bills in his open violin case and Laboon, the gigantic puppy Brook took in on a rainy day, wags his tail in thanks. Street performances help Brook meet ends but more importantly, are incredibly fun. Sometimes, business men with darkness in their eyes and disheveled ties will slow down at Brook's corner in the street and walk away with a small smile. Sometimes, blushing new couples will stand side by side and grasp hands as if they'll never let go.

Brook loves his audience just as much as he loves his music. He loves all of his audience equally-and yet his gaze sometimes flickers to raven black hair.

At around midnight, Brook puts his earnings away and pats Laboon on the head. The black puppy, who always settles beside Brook's violin case, lets out a whine.

"Not today," Brook agrees. He isn't sure exactly what, but he scans through the unfamiliar faces in the street for one last time. "Not today."

ㅡ

"Ha! It's your loss Zoro," Kuina smirks. "Again."

"I could beat you if I could use more bokkens!" Zoro scrambles back up despite Kuina's laugh.

"That's ridiculous; it's against the rules!"

"Well screw rules," Zoro says. "If I could, I would win."

But in less than four moves, Kuina knocks Zoro off his feet and forces him to yield again. It's something like a routine for them; Zoro gets up and up and up and _up_. He challenges her until the dojo master comes in and orders them home for dinner. Most days Zoro follows Kuina inside but some days he doesn't. Some days, he refuses dinner to go running, end up in a darkened alley with three or so unconscious idiots who tried to mug him, and then go running again.

The dojo master murmurs _teens_ and Kuina snorts_ boys _but neither of them stop him because they see the strange faraway gaze Zoro gets when he is left alone under the sky too long. A strange restlessness hums in his bones, gnawing at him every so often as if to prevent him from being too accustomed to the peace and silence, to warn him to always be ready, to remind him he is alone. _  
_

ㅡ

Sanji is praised for his original dishes that are visually appeasing and well balanced in nutrion. The reviews in even the top magazines mean nothing to him though, when he has yet to be acknowledged by his own teacher. He takes a bite of his sticky toffee pudding. The bread is warm and moist and the custard and toffee is just sweet enough; to Sanji, it is perfect. Yet Zeff had a single lick of the vanilla custard and grunted, "You stirred it too much."

"Damn y'old man," Sanji mutters, his fork clattering against the plate. He'll have to try again.

Sanji has reached the sink when he realizes he left half of his pudding on the table and twists around.

The dessert is exactly where he left it, untouched, and Sanji wonders why in the world he thought it would be otherwise.

ㅡ

Nami is setting the table while her mom and Nojiko make dinner. She is old enough to rob rich men blind by poker and calculate her way through blackjack (which she does on weekends) but in her family, she will forever be the baby; Nami is always in charge of the grunt work, like setting the table. They keep the TV on to wait for their favorite quiz show and Nami is pulling out the cups when she notices the newsflash. Nojiko, who has noticed as well, rests her chin on Nami's shoulder.

"Oh my god, Portgas D. Ace was killed in a gang war?"

The foster son of Edward Newgate, CEO of WB, is like an urban legend; few know his face, even less about the man himself. The WB president is notoriously protective of his son and the complete lack of information led to all sorts of speculation. Some think that Portgas is the biological son of a mobster, others that he is an illegitimate child of a politician. Nami knew Portgas for the internet fiasco; a paparazzi shot of a shirtless Portgas' in a cowboy hat once went viral. The legendary shot was soon wiped off the internet and Nami, who had been still been in school, was one of the unlucky few who found out too late. She always jokingly considered Portgas as 'the one who got away,' and it is strange to think that a man she heard of, is dead. Nojiko clucks in sympathy as the anchor moves on to show the video they obtained, allegedly taken mere minutes before Portgas D. Ace's death.

"You don't think they're going to show him die on TV, do you?" Nojiko sounds mildly alarmed.

Nami is about to scoff at the comment but she watches as a man with freckles and an impossible grin appear on screen. She gasps, reeling backwards in shock. She never notices Nojiko staggering back to support her, or the cups slipping from her grasp and smashing on their marble kitchen floor. Portgas D. Ace is staring at the camera and though the sound is drowned by the shouts and shooting from around him, he laughs like he couldn't have a care in the world. He flips the bird to the camera and is saying something but Nami can't hear because Ace is staring at her, and his gaze is strong and steady and he reminds her of-

_Take care of him for me_.

Nami remembers.

"Luffy," Nami whispers. "Oh my god, _Luffy_."

She understands.


	2. Chapter 2

**a/n: First off, Happy Chuseok! Second, I feel like I didn't warn everyone enough that this will be my personal output for angst!Luffy and (over)protective!crew after finally reading the war arc for the first time****. My focus is solely Luffy and his crew so the pacing of the story might feel quick(I plan to end this within three more chapters), but feel free to ask questions. I promise I will reply(&reply to reviews) as soon as I can. **

**There is intentional quoting of chapter 590, no infringement intended and no profit being made. On a side note, I found out that the title of 590, translated to 'My Brother' in English, was 'otouto-yo' which is not a noun but a call, not just 'brother' but 'little brother.' It's painfully bittersweet. **

Ace is dead.

It feels like years passed from how the fact is heavily settled in his chest, but the blood on Luffy's hands has yet to dry. His gaze drops to them-and he has to double over to empty his stomach. Acid is bitter in his mouth but the heavy knot remains trapped somewhere between the base of his throat and stomach along with the memory of Ace's last moment in his arms.

It was a bullet to the heart and death was instantaneous. Almost, instantaneous. Luffy had just enough time to pull his brother into his arms and beg him not to die. Ace had enough time to press a grin into his brother's shoulder and say goodbye.

Luffy doesn't remember much after that.

Somebody must have pulled him away from his brother's body. Somebody must have pushed him into the alleys until Luffy's body understood what his mind could not and began to run for safety.

He stumbles now, barely saving himself by digging his fingers into the brick wall for balance-only to end up collapsing against it. He doesn't recognize where he is but it isn't far enough for it to be safe; the air stinks of steel and gunshots echo in the air. However, Luffy doesn't run; he slams his forehead against the wall because he was weak and dumb and his brother who taught him how to fight, stole his food whenever he wasn't guarding his plate enough, and visited Sabo's grave with him every year is dead.

In a different lifetime, Luffy might have still had a reason to continue on. He might have lost all he ever looked up to and yet found the strength and courage to move forwards for something equally important, something his to protect and depend on. The gaping despair in his own chest would have been the same but Luffy, through blurry tears, would have counted his blessings and moved on to become stronger.

In this one, Sabo is gone, Ace is dead and Luffy is now alone. He cannot go to Dadan or Makino for the danger it would put them in. He will not go to Garp and by default, the police, because he trusts his grandfather, but Luffy is the son of the most feared terrorist of the century and he will not force Garp to choose.

A rise of sheer dread clouds his vision; Luffy should push it down, swallow the regret and self-hate and, however much it hurts, focus. He won't count only what he lost. What is gone is gone, so what is it that he has left?

Luffy distantly hears a broken sound like a dying animal keening, and Luffy's last thoughts before his vision spirals into darkness are to wonder if it lost everything too.

ㅡ

It is far past midnight when Brook tucks his violin into its case. Most people have returned to the warmth of their own homes but today, Brook couldn't quite walk away. He sighs and is adjusting his case straps when his normally quiet puppy starts to bark.

"Laboon?" Brook twists around in surprise. "What's-"

The musician cuts himself off because he sees what is wrong (or maybe what is right) in the form of a slight boy slumped on the back of a teenager. The teenager stands less than two feet away, still and wary like a feral dog, yet it is the sight of the raven head resting on the teen's shoulder that has Brook stepping closer. He doesn't remember placing the violin down though he must have because both of his hands are free to touch the tousled head, carefully, gently the way one would hold a newborn baby-or something equally incredibly important.

It is so intimate a gesture; Brook doesn't know who is more surprised: himself or the wary teen. The teen has seemed to have pulled out of his initial shock but he stays where he is and allows Brook's inspection.

"He's bleeding," Brook's fingertips come back crimson red.

"I think he got shot too," The teen's voice is low and rough but surprisingly calm. "He needs a doctor but somebody who won't call it in. Someone discreet. Someone who can keep him off the radar."

Brook should find it strange for the teen to confide in him. He answers like he had been on that very corner of the street in that very city until that very moment, waiting for the two all along. "I know a man who knows a man. Come with me, he will help."

ㅡ

The doctor is well-known for not caring where his patients or their wounds came from. His only rule is to keep the fighting off his property, one all parties gladly obey for a safe place to sleep and rest when recovering from would-be fatal wounds. His dingy office, situated just between the third and second district, is within reach of both innocent civilians and those who choose to live on the other side of the law. His medical school peers try to recruit him but he remains resolute in his belief that even those who cannot pay for treatment are still patients and it is his obligation to provide it.

Chopper is damn good at his job and between treating scraped knees for sniffling children and knife wounds for 'if-I-told-you-my-name-I'd-have-to-kill-you's, he became highly accustomed to emergencies like two people barging in at one in the morning with a third, unconscious person in tow.

All the same, he stills for a moment when he sees the two. The taller one, who left a gigantic puppy at the doorstep has to be the friend Doctor Hiluluk called him minutes ago about. Chopper has no idea who the younger one is, but the front of his white shirt is splattered in blood and the sight strikes Chopper strange. He dismisses the thought to order the teen to carefully settle his injured friend into his surgery room-and stills again when he sees his patient.

It is a boy who looks much younger than he probably is, with his disheveled hair and pale skin in contrast with the blood. He is battered and the darkening patches on his skin indicate defensive bruising. The boy has a shattered collarbone, three broken ribs and a fractured femur and it feels wrong, as if the boy having broken bones is against the very laws of nature. All of it comes after the gunshot wound though. The bullet is lodged in the center of his chest and it is nothing short of a miracle that it avoided major arteries and the spine.

"What's his name? Patients tend to react better if you call their name to them," Chopper asks as he prepares for surgery. The two take it as a cue to step back but not before the teen answers.

"We don't know. He wasn't very responsive when I found him," The teen pauses and if Chopper turned around, he would have seen the teen at the doorway, head tilted. "You'll save him."

Chopper has heard those same words as a sobbed plea, a hopeful question and even a poorly-veiled threat. From the teen, it is simply an observation. The sky is blue, the grass is green and Chopper will save the boy.

He replies. "Yes."

ㅡ

"Bakanky?" Iceburg looks back and forth between the blaring TV and his friend who is poring over an unfinished blueprint on his workdesk. "Are you okay?"

Franky never looks up but he answers. "Yeah."

Unsatisfied, Iceburg glances at the TV again. "And you're sure you don't know this Portgas kid?"

"Yeah."

"But you keep the news on in case they have something new about him."

"Yeah."

"You never watch the news."

"Yeah."

"Franky?"

"Yeah."

Iceburg frowns and carefully steps around the paraphernalia scattered around the floor; both of them have too much respect for each other's work to be anything but obsessively careful in each other's work-space. He peers by Franky's feet and grimaces. Behind Franky's desk are four empty coke bottles and it is barely nine in the morning. Things are serious.

Iceburg tries. "Are you secretly harboring a gay crush for Portgas?"

"Yeah."

"Are you secretly harboring a gay crush for me?"

"Yeah."

Things are _serious_. Time to bring out the big guns. "Did you know we're out of coke?"

"Yeah-_what_?" Franky's head snapped up but he frowned when he saw Iceburg double over in laughter. "Not super man. You don't joke with a man's supply of coke."

"_Cocaine_ maybe. coke, not so much. You're planning to build a house?" Iceburg takes a look at what Franky is working on. He whistles. "Scratch that, is this a house or a fortress?"

Franky settles back and grins. "Pretty sweet huh?"

"Uh huh... Wait, are you being commissioned for this?"

"No, why?"

Iceburg frowns at the number of rooms on the second floor. "Because that's oddly specific."

"Ten seemed like too much, eight seemed like too little," Franky shrugs, sheepish. "But I'm thinking of moving all the rooms up a floor and clearing the space for two rooms instead."

One room would have a private bathroom and separate room in lieu of a closet. It would probably have a wall full of books and soft rugs by the beds. The other room would be larger, with bunk beds and worn couches and possibly some handhold consoles in the corner of the room.

"It's weird," Franky taps the blueprint with his knuckle. "This was always floating around in my head but I never wanted to put it down on paper. Now, it's like I can't keep this in. That news about Newgate's kid dying-it wasa wake-up call."

It stopped him from hesitating with the _but for who?_ and answered with the urgency of _nownownow_.

Now, Franky grins. "It's gonna be the greatest house in the world."

Iceburg doesn't know but the house will have a lion mantle on the oak wood door, a library and its own aquarium. It will have an enormous kitchen, a gigantic yard and an even bigger living room for movies and ghost stories and afternoon naps.

Franky doesn't know but it will be the greatest house in the world because it will be their home.

ㅡ

Brook and Chopper are in the hall, no doubt discussing their available options for an injured boy who refuses to say a word. Zoro, who was left in the room to watch the kid, watches the kid. The kid hasn't taken his eyes off from the doorway since the two left and Zoro can't tell if the kid is waiting for a chance to run, or terrified of who might walk back in.

"The tall one was Brook. The doctor's Chopper," Chopper said the kid's vocal cords weren't physically damaged and the cause was likely to be psychological. Zoro figures the kid will talk when he feels like it. "Both of them spent the past twenty four hourss at your bedside while you were out. I'm pretty sure they wouldn't go through all that just to off you when you get better."

The boy's gaze from the door doesn't move but the boy's breathing changes, ever so slightly. So the boy isn't as far in his own head as the others thought."And I'm-huh?"

Zoro pulls out his phone and squints at the screen. It's Kuina and scrolling down his call history, Zoro finds that during the past day, he missed twenty three calls and eleven text messages. Eight calls and one text message are from Kuina's father. The rest are from Kuina herself and the texts vary from curiosity("_Not comin to get ur butt kicked tonite :D?"_) to worry("_Where are you?_") to apoplectic rage("ASSHOLE _PICK UP THE GOD DAMN PHONE"_). He snorts, and texts back "_busy." _The reply is immediate.

_Call me or I WILL break Kitetsu._

She's serious. Zoro should know; the last time he scared her boyfriend away with a "chat" a man gave to one attempting to court said man's foster-sister, she threw him Yubashiri, challenged him to battle, and then proceeded to break it. Rubbing the back of his neck. Zoro condemns himself to his fate for the sake of his sword.

He's about to pick himself up when for the first time, the boy's gaze slides to him.

It is the boy's first acknowledgment and Zoro stills. The boy only stares at him with the same look he had since waking up-a strange mix of desperation and vague panic-but for a split second, his gaze flickers back to the door.

Oh.

Zoro flips his phone close and buries it back in his jacket.

"I'm Zoro," He tells him, the same way a person would say _don't worry_, and stays.

Three days of silence later, the boy tells them his name.

ㅡ

"Marco, has Vista reported…" Edward Newgate, founder and president of WB, trails off as he enters his office. He tells the shadow standing by his desk. "You've got guts coming here brat."

Robin smiles. The man is as tough as they say; if Newgate was surprised upon finding an uninvited stranger in his own office, Robin cannot tell.

"I came to make a proposal. Nothing else," Robin says. She slipped past the security once but in a building as secures as the headquarters of WB, she cannot use the same method twice. Especially after announcing herself like this. She is essentially without an escape route in enemy grounds and it is, in her own way, a sign of goodwill.

Newgate seems to recognize it as well for he raises a hand. Marco takes a step back and Robin clicks the safety of her gun back on. "There are only a handful of people with the skills to get in here. The ones with the guts to actually do it are even less. Nico Robin, what do you want?"

Robin smiles again, but this time, it is full of teeth. "Everybody knows that you plan to take Teach's crew down. I want in."

"And you offer..?"

Robin places her gun on the edge of Newgate's desk and slowly pulls out a manila envelope from her bag.

"I take you to Teach," Neither of them show a visible response but the tension in the air increases. "This information is only valid for the next forty eight hours but I found them once. I can find them again. The man you sent, Vista, will never find him because he's good but Teach is better," Newgate raises an eyebrow and Robin smoothly adds. "I'm best."

Marco speaks up for the first time. "How much do you know?"

It is a wise question, testing her and her intel. However Robin is not bluffing and she will gladly prove it.

"The police wanted the son of Dragon and Teach wanted the entire southern part of the third district. The two struck a deal; a hostage in exchange for territory.

"Teach, like most others, only knew one thing about the son; the son was sworn brothers with 'Fire Fist.' He spread word on the street that 'Fire Fist' was taken by his crew and the child," Probably having no one else to ask, "Believed it. He ran straight into Teach's arms, thinking he was going to save his brother. Teach's plan could have been efficient and perfect."

However, the fatal flaw in the plan was that Teach had no idea who 'Fire Fist' was.

"Teach is clever, almost dangerously so. However, he has not been in the city long enough to understand what the most of us already knew: that Fire Fist was Portgas Ace and Portgas is yours. He suspected Fire Fist would come but thought it would be inconsequential. He thought he could handle it."

Teach was wrong.

"He claims that Portgas was killed in the crossfire," Robin pulls the coordinates from the manila envelope and offers them to Newgate. "But I believe that matters little to a man who lost his son."

Newgate scans the papers in silence before passing them on to Marco. "Why do you offer this Nico Robin? And don't take me as a fool; I know exactly what happened with Crocodile and CP9."

It is the final and trickiest question because Robin is well aware of her own reputation. If she tells him the truth, that there is no reason at all but that she saw a photo of the boy named Luffy and decided to do so, he will never believe her. If she lies, he will sense it and refuse to trust her and her information. Robin is not naïve enough to believe that she can take down Teach and his crew by herself; Newgate is her best bet.

Robin opts for honesty.

"Few things anger me Mr. Newgate. It seems that Teach is one of them," Robin is calm but something cold and terrible and ancient gleams in her eyes. "I've decided that if he asks for battle, I will give him war."

Newgate returns the gaze with the same steel and Robin knows their deal is done.


	3. Chapter 3

**a/n: Warnings for language and implied gritty underworld things. It's actually less dark than the past two chapters though. **

Their meeting is sudden and simple to the point that it is almost anti-climatic.

It was Nami's fourth day in the city and her second day in third district, the shadier part of the city her mother had warned her about. Nami couldn't imagine Luffy living anywhere as uptight as the first district but didn't think he would be able to afford the second. She was mapping the area, figuring her way along the crooked alleys and decrepit buildings when she took a left instead of a right and, around the corner, found a boy on one of the trashcans with his back to the wall and looking up to the sky.

She meets the solemn gaze and her entire world singles down to that single boy, because she knows it's him.

They spend god knows how long staring at each other in silence. The aching hole in her chest eases but the churning in her soul intensifies because the Luffy who stands before her bears no resemblance to the Luffy she remembers; the carefree grin that light up the sky is gone. The confident gaze that challenged the world can't be seen. What remains is a broken shadow of pain and Nami is suddenly incredibly jealous that her past-self never had to see what Nami sees now: a Luffy younger, thinner and infinitely sadder.

He slides down from his seat to pad over to her. The bright red hoodie he has pulled over his head is hideous but strangely fitting. With the cuff of his sleeve, he dabs at her cheeks. "Don't cry."

Nami thinks of a (life)time when her world came crashing down around her and she tried to drown in self-hate and the blood from her shoulder. She thinks of the steady presence that stood beside her, unflinching and unconditional. All of it is in a past that doesn't exist. Even if Nami has the memories, she is not Cat-Burglar Nami no more than the boy is Straw Hat Luffy who conquered the seas. She owes nothing to the boy standing before her.

Yet here she is, seeking him all the same because even death couldn't make her forget his name.

"Yeah," Nami lets him brush her tears (_and regrets_) away. With a smile, she echoes. "Of course."

ㅡ

She follows Luffy 'home,' which is two-bed apartment and one perpetually empty refrigerator. Nami laughs when she meets them because they aren't at all what she imagined: Brook is in flesh and blood, Chopper is taller than her and Zoro is _younger_ than her. Then again they were there when it mattered so they aren't too different either.

ㅡ

(_"What happened?" Nami asks Zoro on Brook's porch and under the stars, when Luffy is curled up on bed, tangled between the limbs of one brilliant but eccentric doctor, one cheerful but eccentric musician and one huge puppy._

_"I was too late," he tells her with eyes full with bitter regret of a man who hadn't known there had been a deadline. "I found him after everything was over and... He was a mess."_

_Two weeks is enough to dull the shock of finding a bleeding boy slumped in the shadows but it will take much longer for the vague guilt to wash away as well._

_"It wasn't just a matter of blood either," Zoro runs a hand through his hair. "The way he stared at me when I pulled him up..."_

_Nami thinks of the empty gaze that looked into the sky and understands. "Like he'd never be happy again."_

_Zoro exhales._

_"And then after you found him? You got him out?"_

_"Yeah," The answer is immediate, the _of course_ implied. As if Zoro, in any lifetime, would ever leave any of them behind. "I got him out," Zoro pauses. "But not before one of the lackeys found us."_

_Zoro falls silent, watching her with dark eyes. The next question is obvious and it hangs in the air as he waits for her to voice it._

_In a different life time, Nami might have. Gang wars, PTSD and murder aren't things she grew up imagining she would have to handle. _

_"You got him out," Nami tells him, her eyes glittering just as fiercely. "Good."_)

ㅡ

Despite numerous offers in the form of phone calls from real estate agencies, Sanji likes having his own place at the edge of the slums. It's where he grew up at before Zeff took him under his wing and it's not as dangerous to him as it is to everybody else. Sanji can handle himself, as he taught the idiots who tried to rob him his first week back. Four broken bones later, they agreed to never come near his house again and to let the others know.

Which was how Gin found Sanji as the three idiots Sanji so kindly 'looked after' were his own. It was nostalgic to meet his buddy for the first time in years-though the novelty quickly wore off when Gin proceeded to eat everything in his refrigerator.

"Consider this payment," Gin offered between bites. "Most of them are scared shitless of you anyways, but I'll make it official and make your place off-grounds."

"What a shallow excuse for free food," Sanji snorted but put up with Gin's random visits to stuff himself and catch up on each other. True to his word, Gin never let any of the locals come near Sanji's place again and Sanji felt confident to handle any of the idiots who still tried that he never bothered locking his doors.

His confidence might be why Sanji doesn't notice the thumping and muffled conversation from above him at first.

"-ffy you bastard, give me some too!"

A short pause before the same muffled voice continues.

"_Half_ a cup? Son of a-"

Damn brats. Sanji thinks of the tray of desserts he left to cool on the roof and in his haste, Sanji jumps to his feet, knocking his chair over with a clatter. The voice above him immediately curses.

"Movemovemovemove!"

When Sanji dashes out the door and up the ladder, the brats are already gone.

As are his toffee puddings.

Sanji can't stop grinning; he just doesn't realize it until Gin tells him.

ㅡ

"Sir, the underground is in a panic; Newgate has made his move."

Akainu frowns. That is faster than expected; he seems to have underestimated Newgate's tracking abilities. "Killing Portgas Ace and involving Newgate was not part of the deal. Teach is simply reaping what he sowed. What is of more importance is the boy. Did you find him?"

The officer falters under the gaze. "N-no sir. Not yet."

"Find him," The boy could be their only chance to bait Dragon out and the terrorist is to be exterminated for absolute justice. "At any cost."

ㅡ

One of Newgate's men was a mole and Teach himself had disappeared when they were closing in on him. It mattered little as Robin found the man once; she can find him again. However, after days of tracking and hunting down Teach's crew, annihilating all those related to the man, Robin is _tired_. The last time she worked as a team was with the CP9 and everybody knows how that went; Robin trusts Newgate as much as she trusts anybody else. That is to say, if it were not for the sheer size and power of Teach's crew, she would have never worked with them.

Robin is drawn to this old building where her sources tell her is registered to one independent musician, the way a bird is attracted to the woods, the way a fox would turn its head towards it's home.

It is, in the end, a moment of weakness.

Robin slips inside through the windows; the first room is empty, barely furnished. Robin checked the water meter; only the fourth floor is inhabited. When she gets there, however, the house is too quiet. Rather than the silence of the sleepy night, it is the quiet of anticipation and Robin is ready when she walks down the hall into the kitchen.

"Very good," Her compliment is sincere because the teen is better than most of her targets who notice her far too late. "But I suppose I should expect that much from the foster son of the famed swordsman Koshiro."

The teen named Zoro blinks in surprise at being identified but true to form, the red hilted katana doesn't waver at all. His stance is relaxed but not defensive, ready to lash out but only if she moves too close.

She slowly holds her hands up so he can see them. "I am not here for a fight."

"If you're after the kid, you're going to get one."

Robin smiles despite herself. "I am not 'after the kid' in the sense you think of. Rather, I can tell you that the ones who started this will not be coming after the boy. They are… preoccupied."

That tended to happen when you didn't know how to breathe through lungs full of blood. Robin made sure they learned that their best option was to stop breathing altogether. From the look the teen gives her, he knows exactly what she means. He slowly lowers his katana in deference to her lack of aggression.

"What did you come here for?"

"I think the real question is," Before Robin can answer, a cheerful voice interrupts. "How long will you stay?"

Both of them glance at the newcomer whose grin grows wider. Zoro frowns. "The hell Nami?"

"I'm perfectly serious," The girl smiles at Robin, as if she'd been waiting to meet Robin her entire life. In Robin's line of work, that sort of response should send her towards the nearest exit with her gun in hand. Robin finds herself smiling back. "Won't you stay?"

It is, Robin recognizes, a moment of weakness. She says yes anyways.

ㅡ

He hears his back door swinging open and can't help but grin, wide and savage. When his 'guests' reach his kitchen though, Sanji has schooled his features into perfect nonchalance.

The two are brats, just like Sanji expected. The taller one is careful; Sanji watches how his gaze immediately sweeps the kitchen for additional exits after sizing Sanji up. He looks wary as hell with his posture low and tense and shielding the other from view.

When the other one peeks over his friend's shoulder, Sanji pauses.

The other one, in a fantastically hideous red hoodie, looks at him with eyes that are far too solemn and pained for his age. It's _wrong_, and something in Sanji's gut twists viciously because he never liked kids and couldn't give a damn to the shitty lives they lead-been there, done that-but this makes Sanji want to go out and break something. Preferably bones. Maybe faces.

"Whaddya want?" The taller teen asks. He has Sanji's note Sanji left on the roof with a pie, crushed in his hand.

"Exactly what it says," Sanji shuts his lighter with a snap and breathes his cigarette in. He motions to the kitchen table behind him that is heaped with food. "'Get your skinny asses down here and eat at a table like proper human beings.'"

The younger one leaps forward at the invitation-before his companion yanks him back by his hood. "Wait, idiot! You're offering to feed us?"

Sanji smirks because the taller one hid it well but he saw both of them swallow hard when they saw the food. "Considering that you've been stealing off my roof for a week now I've been feeding you all this long. But yeah, I'm offering to feed you so shut up and siddown."

They don't have to be ordered twice; they grab the nearest chairs to settle side by side. It's almost endearing at how easily they'll trust a complete stranger's word; it's also proof that neither of them grew up on the streets the way Sanji did.

"Just one thing,"Sanji reaches over. He moves smoothly and quickly that they never get the chance to duck before he bangs their heads together. Hard.

"Consider this payment." Over the yelps of pain and cursing, Sanji tells them with a grin.


	4. Chapter 4

**a/n: the last ones join and more about the crew in general, Luffy in specific and I threw in a little realism at Zoro. who can recognize all the allusions ? Always, thank you to everybody who reviews and PMs, I will get back to you when life calms down but just let it be said that they really helped.**

"_What do you think_?" The voice in Franky's ears asks, with the cheerful confidence of certainty. "_Do you still think the seven hour plane ride was a waste of time?_"

"It's perfect," He isn't ashamed to admit it because there is no other word to describe the view he sees. "To be honest, when you first gave me the coordinates, they were so in the middle of nowhere that I thought you were crazy."

If Franky is brutally honest, he thought Nami, the voice on the other end of the line, was crazy from the moment Iceburg told him the rumor about her, a girl in search for a house worthy enough for its namesake.

(_"She has a _name_ for the house she wants?" Franky snorted. "Even you and I don't name our houses."_

"_She's paying enough for three_ _custom houses; she's entitled to name it if she wants to."_

"_And what's the name for this wonder house?"_

"_She didn't say," Iceburg's grin grew wider. "She did say that the house has to be, and I'm quoting here, 'worthy of the name that once sailed through a thousand sunny seas.'"_

_Franky stilled. "Say that again."_

"_Uh, she didn't say-"_

"_No, just that last part, about the house."_

"_'Worthy of the name that once sailed through a thousand sunny seas.' What's wrong?"_

_Franky asked. "Who did you say this girl was?")_

_"I take it that you're satisfied?" _

"Yes," Franky relishes the answer. It took a lot of persuading and compromising on Nami's part for Franky to accept the plane ticket and coordinates that came to him via mail but before this view, all his doubts and suspicion melt away. "When you take that last step to the top and see _this_, it's like…"

"_Like the hole in your chest you never knew you had is finally filled and you're breathing for the first time all over again,_" There is a hint of yearning in the words but before Franky can ask about it, Nami moves on, business-like. "_Do you have the envelope I sent you?"_

"Yeah," Franky settles down on the grass to dig into his duffle bag. "Found it."

"_I gave you everything you need and it's all in there. The paperwork is done, the contracts are taken care of. The material and people you asked for are already shipped and waiting for you. All that's left is the actual house but if you check the envelope, I sent the blueprints back to you with a few requests. Security-wise," _She adds before Franky can protest. "_I promised you I wouldn't touch the blueprints without your permission and I didn't. However I showed it to a friend who's… let's say highly trained in finding security flaws, and she pointed out a few potential blind spots."_

Though grudgingly, Franky admits that the 'friend' made valid points and he immediately makes modifications in his head to accommodate them; now the house is truly a fortress. Satisfied, he shuffles through the remaining files and papers in the envelope when he notices. "We can settle this later but I think you forgot my returning plane ticket."

The quiet huffing isn't of annoyance; Nami is laughing. "_Everything you need is in the envelope Franky. If you change your mind even after meeting him, I'll get the ticket for you then._"

"...Alright, but you do realize I have no idea what you're talking about."

"_I would have agreed but then I saw your blueprints,_" Nami sounds fond. "_So I'm gonna say that somewhere deep down inside, you actually do."_

ㅡ

Luffy still has nightmares.

Chopper assured the rest that it is not surprising for somebody who went through the emotional and physical trauma Luffy suffered but he knows it doesn't make it any easier for them to listen to Luffy's panicked shouts in the middle of the night.

As Luffy's doctor, he nearly had an aneurysm when he found out how Sanji and the two teens met but Chopper recognizes it is proof of how far Luffy has come: from the silent, shell-shocked boy who refused to eat or speak or even meet their eyes to a quiet but fearless kid who'll go _roof-hopping_ if left with another fearless but quiet kid long enough. Healed, however is a relative term and they have far more to go, because Luffy still freezes when people tower over him (Chopper explained to the others about defensive bruises that indicated being attacked from behind and above-and conveniently didn't notice when Robin went missing for the following two days) and he still flinches away from anybody who isn't one of them.

Chopper sighs, running his hand through his hair as he thinks of the previous day; Nami accidently dropped a plate, causing it to shatter upon impact, and it took hours for Luffy to stop shaking.

They are careful and they are learning but there are still boundaries that they don't see until it's crossed, scars that they don't notice until it bleeds and whenever that happens, Chopper feels ancient grief and uncharacteristically fierce fury for the hurt and towards whoever put it there because a twist in his heart tells him it's wrong, it's not fair, it's not _supposed _to be this way.

But he doesn't know how it's supposed to be, what else Luffy could possibly be except the quiet, broken boy who looks terribly alone, so however much it angers Chopper, he lets that thought go.

"Chopper?" The call jolts Chopper back and he finds Luffy, stirring out of sleep. "S'quiet."

"That's cause you overslept. Sanji's at work and Nami threatened Usopp and Zoro into going to school." Chopper grins at the memory of Nami brandishing a spoon in their faces. "Brook is off to record his new album I think and I'd rather not know what Nami and Robin are doing."

Luffy nods, solemn. "Then everybody's gone?"

"...No," Chopper doesn't know what _should have been_ so he only tells Luffy what _will be_ which is that one by one, all of them will come back.

ㅡ

This is the truth: none of them have a reason to stay.

ㅡ

Zoro has nightmares too, only he hides them better. Unlike Luffy who will flinch awake with a choked name and head to the bathroom to retch or wash his hands, Zoro barely twitches. Brook only knows Zoro has nightmares at all because he was at the right place at the right time to see for himself; he was locking the house up when Zoro shot up from the sofa, eyes gleaming in the darkness, wild and confused.

(_Only two other people other than Brook seem to be aware of this; Sanji, who will brew lavender tea and taunt Zoro into drinking it when the teen grows restless and irritable after nights of tossing and turning; and Lady Robin, who gave Sanji the tea leaves.)_

Zoro never says a word about his nightmares, before, after or even during them but Brook, who still remembers the splattered blood on the front of Zoro's shirt and the danger in his eyes when they first met, can guess what they must be about.

ㅡ

Usopp should be in his one room apartment, trying to figure out the shear-flow formula for his next week finals. It is sad-or maybe just plain stupid-that he is one of the best crackers in the entire world, his alternate cyber persona _sgkingrules_ being wanted by two governments and five corporations, yet if he loses his scholarship because he fails this course, he'll be kicked out of his dingy apartment.

In a moment of what Usopp will call infinite-wisdom-not-procrastination-shut-up-guys, he abandons his studying to take a run. The third district is a cheap area to live in for a reason but not to the point that he has to fear getting mugged in broad daylight. He reaches the secluded park that is four blocks away and has a wide circular pond Usopp is particularly fond of. It is beautiful with creamy white stones laced around its edges and the water is surprisingly clear, glittering silver under the afternoon sun. Usopp secretly suspects that the clean water is less about guaranteeing quality life to local citizens and more about preventing the local gangsters from dumping bodies into it but he's not complaining.

Today, the park is not empty. A boy, in a bright red hoodie pulled up to hide half his face, stands on the flat of the white stone, poring into the surface as if it's the most curious thing he's seen and though the boy isn't the age to need a guardian, Usopp finds himself looking around the park; the thought of the boy alone, is unsettling in his bones.

"There's _more_? Gimme a second, I can't memorize this."

A teen is at Usopp's far left, scowling murderously as he struggles to write with his phone between his ear and shoulder. He catches Usopp watching him, and his scowl deepens before he turns away; Usopp's gaze is drawn back to the boy by the pond as he draws closer.

He can't tell if the flutter in his heart is anticipation or apprehension but when the boy leans forward, swaying dangerously at the edge of water, Usopp, for absolutely no reason, grabs the kid's shirt to pull him back.

ㅡ

This is the(ir) truth: they stay.


End file.
